


Betrayal

by aomineavenue



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Cheating, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26460484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aomineavenue/pseuds/aomineavenue
Summary: finding the other cheated.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 71





	Betrayal

Betrayal. 

It's a violation of a presumptive contract, trust, or confidence that produces moral and psychological conflict amongst individuals. It's considered one of the most painful, traumatising experiences any human may stumble upon throughout their existence. Discovering such an act from someone we trust, may often lead to various emotions that pull the reality rug from under us.

It comes in many forms. Such as abandonment, breaking promises and even the spread of vicious lies behind someone's back. 

In your case, however, it's when you come to face reality that the man you agreed to marry just a few months prior, was nowhere near faithful as he claimed to be. Or to put it simply, the bastard was having an affair. 

You had been too preoccupied with wedding plans, that you grew ignorant of the blunt signs visible to the naked eye. You were foolish. The two of you haven't even tied the knot yet and there he was, already breaking the sacred promise of a marriage. 

For a brief second, you had foolishly wanted nothing more than to look the other way. When he had stumbled home in such an ungodly hour, drunk off his ass, you had wanted nothing more than to reprimand his behaviour as he woke you up from your slumber. As you were about to, however, the whiff of an unfamiliar fruity aroma had attacked your senses the second you had stepped into his proximity. 

Of course, you weren't the type of woman to berate their significant other over such a trifling concept without hearing his side of the story, you knew such behaviour will be a downfall for any relationship. 

You brushed such an idea off, as much as the scent was bothering you, there was no use in questioning him in his intoxicated state. Well, that is, until you had stepped closer and that's when you saw _it._

Bruises, no doubt growing darker as seconds passed by, littered decoratively on his skin, as if left intentionally on his neck for the world to see. For _you_ to see.

That's when your own world falls apart. The walls that the both of you had built together to strengthen your relationship, crumbling apart, taking what you had presumed were strong foundations along with it. 

You actually find it hilarious how, just moments ago, he had been stumbling into the shared apartment the two of you had worked so hard for, drunk off his ass, a giggling mess, not being able to comprehend the words that left his mouth. Then all of that changed the moment your lips moved to spew accusations towards his direction, it was as if the alcohol had escaped out of his system almost immediately through the sweat he had produced, obviously from the fear of the consequences of his actions. 

He calls out your name desperately to capture your attention, you wanted to leave the apartment you called home right this second, the atmosphere suffocating you further. You try your best to blink away the tears, but you know it's impossible as your vision grows glossy. 

"Please," he cries out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull you back, "Please just wait, let's—"

"Oikawa," you croak, he flinches from your tone and how you addressed him by his last name. He begs, he cries, telling you to call him Tooru, pleading with you with his desperate eyes. "Oikawa," you repeat, wincing from his tight grip as you turn to face him, his heart clenches to see your eyes filled with nothing but hate and tears, the love he had grown accustomed to seeing, nowhere to be found. "Oikawa, let go!" You shake your wrist out of his hold, refusing to give him the satisfaction of you staying, whatever for anyway? The idea of listening to his excuses only breaks your heart further, you didn't want to see him, not right now, maybe not ever. You certainly didn't want to hear how such bruises even came about to taint his skin. You didn't even want to look at them anymore, you didn't want to look at him. The sight of his disheveled state, the bruises on his neck taunting you, squeezing your heart and you're finding it even harder to breathe. 

His desperation shows as he follows you, or rather blocks you from your very evident goal, reaching the front door to escape this sham of a relationship. "Please, let me explain. It was an accident—"

The sight of the tears forming in his own eyes makes you laugh, despite your heart hurting, that it was being pulled apart and all you wanted to do was dissolve into tears, anger began taking over your emotions and to Oikawa, it was clear as the night sky despite the alcohol still swimming in his system, that his begging was futile. 

"An accident?" You bark, features contorting into anger as your fingernails bury into your palms, "Do you take me for someone who lacks brain cells? Letting a woman kiss you? That's an accident?"

He winces from the harshness of your tone as he watches you move in the small living room that once radiated so much love and warmth. He knows he fucked up, he knows his answers were no use. The very idea of cheating was taboo for you and what did he do? He fucked up. He knows whatever form of reasoning will never be enough, but he knows he wants to fix the damage he had done. "Please, just listen. It really was just an accident. Baby, you have to—"

"Don't call me that!" You snap at him, using what little energy you have left to push him away from you, his scent mixed with the aroma of alcohol and the fruity perfume were enough to suffocate you. "You don't get to call me that anymore."

His heart hurts upon hearing those words but he continues begging, dropping down to his knees in front of you but you couldn't even bring yourself to care. The mere sound of his voice reaching your ears were enough to fuel the enraged flames surrounding your heart. He tries to approach you, as cautiously as he could but you respond quickly to his actions, taking a step back. 

Silence. 

The cold air blows through the opened windows and enters the tiny room but despite its cool temperature, it wasn't enough to overpower the heat from the anger and tension radiating off from you. You avoided his pleading gaze, staring straight at the wall behind him as you seethe in anger. You feel your exhaustion dragging you down, your muscles hesitating on letting your guard down. The final straw was when he repeated his sorry excuse. _It was an accident._

Your fingers wrapped hastily around the nearest vase and threw it towards his direction. He was quick on his feet despite being tipsy, dodging to the side. The vase hits the wall behind him, smashing into smaller pieces and sliding down to the carpeted floor, the fresh flowers that he had given you a few days prior that occupied the vase, scattered along with the broken fragments. He turned to look at the broken vase and then back at you, despite the fear in his eyes, he was still begging. 

"Oh! I'm sorry!" You cry out, throwing your hands up in the air and letting out a dry laugh, "I didn't mean to throw that vase at you, it was an accident!" Your rampage began, anything you can get your hands on, a book, the tv remote, a magazine, a pillow, _just anything_ , was thrown around the room and he dodged it the best that he could. 

He cries out your name, begging you to stop. "Please, I'm sorry. Please, just listen to me."

Your eyes caught the picture frame that rested on one of the shelves and a lump forms in the back of your throat. The picture was the very first picture of the both of you. The day that the two of you met. Without wasting another second, you grabbed it from its location and hurled it towards his direction. The frame misses him by an inch, smashing against the wall with a crack and his heart sinks further, he knows how much you loved that photo. He would often catch you in the early mornings with a cup of your favourite tea, staring at the photo with a smile on your face.

He ruined that. 

"I'm sorry, Oikawa." You drawl sarcastically, letting out another laugh, "I didn't mean to throw those things, especially our picture but hey! It was an accident, right?"

"I'm sorry," he murmurs softly in defeat, shifting his gaze down to his hands. 

You shake your head at him, “I don’t ever want to see you again.” 

And before he could comprehend what was happening, you had already fled the apartment with your car keys. 


End file.
